


To The Moon and Back

by DiYunho



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Joker fandom, Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, DC comics - Freeform, Drama, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Joker - Freeform, Joker/you - Freeform, Love, Post-Suicide Squad (2016), Suicide Squad, The Joker - Freeform, The Joker Jared Leto, The Joker Suicide Squad, The Joker and you, The Joker fanfic, The Joker/you - Freeform, The joker/reader - Freeform, dc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiYunho/pseuds/DiYunho
Summary: Trapped between the world of the dead and the world of the living, you couldn’t move on without him. Just another ghost condemned to love beyond the grave, unable to find its way towards eternity. The Joker and his Queen were nothing more now than two souls belonging to different planes of existence, doomed to suffer until they could meet again.





	To The Moon and Back

**Author's Note:**

> You can also follow me on Tumblr and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

The moment you closed your eyes forever, something inside him shattered to pieces. It wasn’t his heart; The Joker only wished he would have been that lucky. It was something else, buried deep inside for a very long time: feelings he thought he didn’t have, ignored and neglected until it was too late.

The Queen of Gotham fought leukemia with the best treatments money can buy: J spared no expense in trying to find a cure for a disease that spread despite of all the efforts to contain the damage. He used to get so angry, blaming you for the worsening condition you couldn’t control:

“Why aren’t you getting better, hm?”

“You know why…” you tried to reason with The Joker despite the fact you realized he was acting like that in order to hide his sorrow.

“Are you doing it on purpose to annoy me?! Get better, do you hear me?” he would shout, frustrated when you just smiled and hugged him:

“Are you gonna miss me?”

“NO! You’re a pain in the ass and I can’t stand you!”

J would mess around with the cute scarf covering your bald head since he didn’t know what else to do.

“Well that’s too bad,” you softly kissed his lips, sighing. “Because I love you to the moon and back, twice around the world plus this,” and you showed him the small gap between your index finger and thumb, waiting for his usual reply. It never failed.

“What difference does this make?!” he pointed towards your fingers.

“It makes all the difference when you measure love,” you whispered and he rolled his eyes.

“What a bunch of crap!” he would get worked up for nothing and it made you giggle.

You would stare at each other for a few moments, then you would bring up the sensitive topic:

“I really think I should move out and get my own place…”

J detested the subject, not his favorite. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Why do you wanna move out?” he pretended not to understand what you’re aiming at.

“I’m getting worse and worse…You could come and visit me, but I believe it would be easier for both if you don’t witness everything. I’ll have nurses, doctors, my meds…”

“Shut up!” he would growl, yanking at your waist. “You’re not moving out and if you mention about this one more time, I’ll get really pissed!”

“You don’t want to see me die…do you?” and the sadness in your voice halted his tirade. “Don’t you want to remember me the way I was? When I was pretty?”

“Yeah, pretty annoying,” The Joker would huff, not being able to stop a sassy remark.

The Clown Prince of Crime pretended to be grouchy, but liked it when you laughed at how stubborn he was. J hated there was nothing that could be done; feeling helpless wasn’t an emotion your boyfriend was accustomed to. And couldn’t stand the unbearable thought that his woman will be gone soon and he will be left behind without her. How strange since he didn’t even like her…Not even a little bit…Definitely not to the moon and back, twice around the world, plus the tiny gap between he fingers that gave it a more personal touch. That was her thing. Not his.

Sometimes you couldn’t sleep at night; the pain was getting worse and the strong medications that used to give you relief weren’t that efficient anymore. You would sneak out of the master bedroom and go to J’s office because you didn’t want to wake him up. A depressed Y/N would turn on The Joker’s laptop and looked at baby pictures online, wishing she was a mother herself: the mother of his children.

“What are you doing, kid?” J would find you there after searching around the Penthouse in the middle of the night. He would rub his eyes, displeased you abandoned the bed and tormented your mind with the game he was familiar with.

“Picking a new Emma and Kase,” you scrolled down the numerous pages, sniffling in front of the computer.

“Let’s see then,” J came over and lifted you from the chair, sat down and pulled you in his lap.

Before you got sick you were actually trying to get pregnant; you both wanted a boy and a girl, you even picked the names: Emma for the girl and Kase for the boy. Just foolish stuff that couples indulge into until it wasn’t silly anymore. It just became impossible.

“She’s cute,” he gestured towards a little girl’s pic. “I think she could pass as ours.”

“She is adorable. Our daughter would have probably looked like this…” you rested your forehead on his. “What about him? Do you think Kase would have looked like this little man?” you suddenly got a boost of energy and waited for the confirmation.

“Most definitely!” The Joker tried to cheer you up since you seemed upset. You squirmed on his knees, the muscle cramps intensifying with each passing second. Not a single sound came out of you but he knew you were uncomfortable and struggled to hide the throbbing ache.

“Turn around,” J moved you so that you can straddle his lap. Your head pressed on his shoulder and he started moving his hands up and down your back, attempting to soothe the pain with a soft massage. “Is this better?”

“So much better…” you took deep breaths and wrapped your hands around his neck, enjoying his touch and the intimacy.  
“How far do you think the moon is?” he suddenly wondered.

“Mmm?”

“Lemme google this,” The Joker extended his arms so he can reach the laptop and typed in a hurry. “Wow, lots of miles: 238,900 to be precise. Now let’s see how wide the Earth is…7,917.5miles. Not bad. Times two for twice around the world… We are looking at 15,835. Add this together with the calculator and… according to your formula you love me the equivalent of 254,735 miles, plus the maybe three-four inches you always show me between your fingers. Useless if you want my opinion but you insist it makes a difference. High total though. One could say I got under your skin, huh?”

“Yes, one could say that”, you snickered and lifted your head enough to kiss his cheek, then went back to your previous position so The Joker can pamper you more. It felt very relaxing and you fell asleep. He knew you had such a hard time resting and he didn’t move until his body went numb.

Eventually J had to get up from the chair and slowly walked with you in his arms towards the bedroom. He stopped in front of the huge windows separating the living room from the terrace, gazing at the moon while tightening the grip on his girl because somehow she felt so far away.

Two months after that night, The Joker was reading the newspaper when you came out of the walk-in closet squeezing your favorite dress: a beautiful white gown, embedded with Swarovski crystals that was a Christmas gift from him a few years back.

“J…” you got his attention and he turned another page, pretending not to hear you. “J…” you tried again. “Umm…after I… after I die, can you please bury me in this dress?”

His mood instantly switched, the jaw so clenched it was probably hurting.

“Say what?” J snarled and glared at the frail Y/N; he wanted to yell at her but no sounds came out.

“Can you please bury me with this dress?”  
The Joker frowned and you took advantage of his silence to address the unpleasant things you couldn’t postpone anymore:

“At the funeral…can you please wear one of your white suits? I know you’re not crazy about the color, but at least we can match one last time…Could you… could you do that for me?” and your eyes got teary since it wasn’t easy to bring it up.

He stood there with his mouth opened, completely appalled. You knew he would rant and have a fit, that’s why you blurred out in a hurry:

“I bought my casket too, this way you don’t have to! It’s at the warehouse on 72nd Street!”

The Joker was truly speechless; it was beyond him how you could utter such aberrations. He was actually getting ready to state his perspective on the matter when you hesitantly stepped towards him, not having the strength for a fight. You dragged your feet on the carpet until you were close enough to kneel by him and hugged his knees, still holding the dress also.

“Don’t be mad at me, ok?” a remorseful Queen pleaded. “You can’t afford to hate me right now…There’s no time…”

The Joker placed the newspaper on the couch he was sitting on, conflicted by your remarks. He pulled you up in his lap, took off your scarf and kissed your shaved head, finally verbalizing his thoughts.

“I’ll make sure you wear your stupid frock and I’ll wear the white suit, deal?”

You nodded a yes, relived your last wishes will be taken care of.

“And you’ll remember how pretty I once was?” the shaky tone warned of imminent crying.

“You are pretty,” The Joker stated with such sincerity it made you smile before bursting into tears: you felt so ugly, dull and unattractive for months you rarely glanced in the mirror. “But I am not getting near that casket until I have to, alright?” he made sure to underline and meant it.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered and cuddled to his body, searching for some reassurance from the only person able to offer it: the man whom you feared was not prepared to lose you despite showing the opposite.

That was the last argument you had about the gloomy future before you passed away 9 weeks later. The Joker kept his promise: he dressed you with the white gown himself and placed you in the casket afterwards, just him and his departed Queen inside the warehouse on the 72nd Street. Everyone was waiting outside, not daring to disturb your last moments together.

J made sure you looked impeccable even if it didn’t matter anymore. He kissed your cold lips one last time, the reality of not seeing you again creeping up in his heart.

“Who’s gonna love me to the moon and back now, hm?…” he muttered absent minded and closed the casket, thinking he was ready to say goodbye. J opened it back the next second, hovering over the woman he wasn’t actually ready to let go.

“Fuck…” The Joker felt dizzy and wiped his sweaty forehead, not realizing he was having a panic attack. He took off his white jacket and tossed it on the floor while pacing around the huge room in a failed attempt to calm down.

“So you’re just gonna leave me??!!” he snapped and returned to your side, but Y/N couldn’t answer anymore. “That’s it?! You’re just…just… leaving? You fucking horrible woman, I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you!!!”

The Queen was peacefully asleep and didn’t argue back. That’s when he took your hands in his and kissed them until there was no more resentment; it was pointless anyway.

“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate you at all, I don’t,” he admitted to the truth, pressing your fingers against his cheeks. “I don’t hate you Princess…”

After a few minutes he pecked your wrists and carefully positioned your hands on your tummy, sealing the casket shut. It took so much out of him to keep it that way and not open it. The Joker had no clue why he was feeling so miserable and desperate, oblivious to the simple truth: he loved Y/N and didn’t even know it.

By the end of the excruciating day he was entirely drained. The King of Gotham retreated at the Penthouse and ordered not to be disturbed under any circumstances. It was so quiet without you and he wondered around the rooms, looking at everything you left behind. When J ended up inside your walk-in closet, reality hit with such intensity he had to sit down: you were gone forever and he couldn’t save you.

He stayed there surrounded by your clothes until night time, when he finally went on the terrace to look at the night sky. The moon was shining and he didn’t care about the cold air, stunned at how beautiful it was. He fell asleep on one of the couches, frozen to the bone by morning time.

Lara came to check up on him and found The Joker sleeping, worried he might get sick after being outside for so long. The woman was Frost’s cousin and one of the most trusted bodyguards.

She didn’t dare wake him; just turned on the electric fire pit and covered him with blankets, this way he could warm up. He mumbled in his dreamless daze and she caressed his face, hoping the grief won’t change him to the point of no return. J moved and she got scared, thinking he might open his eyes and reprimand for the brazen gesture. Lara left in a hurry and planned to drop by later in the day to see if he would want something to eat, worried about the state he was in.

Somebody else was also concerned with The Joker’s well-being and still by his side. He moaned in his sleep and you whispered:

“Don’t be sad, I’m still here,” but he didn’t hear you. “I’m here baby,” you touched his Damaged tattoo although he didn’t feel your presence.

Trapped between the world of the dead and the world of the living, you couldn’t move on without him. Just another ghost condemned to love beyond the grave, unable to find its way towards eternity. The Joker and his Queen were nothing more now than two souls belonging to different planes of existence, doomed to suffer until they could meet again. 

The days, weeks and months flew by regardless; time never stops or slows down for anybody, merciless in its never-ending infinity. 

It made you happy when you realized why Lara kept on coming over and didn’t seem bothered when she was ignored, yelled at or chased away: she was in love with The Joker and it gave you hope. Heavens knows he wasn’t easy to love and needed somebody’s affection like he needed air.

A year and a half after your death, the woman spent the night at the Penthouse for the first time. J woke up and went to take a shower, a sleepy Lara crawling on his side of the bed so she can snuggle with his pillow. She had no idea that used to be your side of the bed.

The Clown Prince of Crime returned to the master bedroom and completely lost it: he dragged her out of the bed and almost broke her arm while violently shoving her towards the exit. She kept on begging him to stop until he slammed her in the elevator, so enraged he wanted to kill the woman he spent the night with only hours earlier.

“Don’t ever come back!!” The Joker hissed at the terrified Lara that did not understand why she was one step away from disaster.

“Please don’t do this,” she uttered through tears and you didn’t approve of his actions either.

“What are you doing?! You need her, don’t push her away!” you talked even if he couldn’t hear you. You cupped his face and looked into the blue eyes that couldn’t see the distressed Queen imploring for mercy on behalf on another. “Just tell her, she didn’t know!! Just open your mouth and tell her!!!” you shouted and maybe somehow you managed to influence his thoughts because The Joker actually explained his rage:

“Nobody sleeps on her side of bed besides me, do you understand?! Nobody! Do you think you can take her place? She will always be my Queen and you are nothing more than somebody I fucked!!”

“Why would you say something like that?” you sighed, upset he was so cruel to the woman that meant his salvation from the nothingness he dealt with since your death. “She’s not trying to take my place, that’s not why she’s here.” 

You were certain that meant the end for the two of them but instead Lara nervously apologized for a mistake she wasn’t guilty committing:

“I’m so sorry… Please don’t send me away… I’m really sorry, ok? I will never sleep on her side of the bed again, I swear.”

She carefully walked out of the elevator and he growled, still mad about her transgression:

“Make sure you don’t or you’ll regret it!”  
*************

The Joker was going to be a father soon: Lara got pregnant with twins and after finding out they will have a boy and a girl, they started thinking about names. Actually she was the one suggesting different monikers because J already had his mind set on what he wanted: Emma and Kase, a secret tribute to his lost Princess that didn’t get a chance to be the mother of his children.

When the twins were born and J held them for the first time, something strange happened: they didn’t cry at all, just fussed for a little bit before falling asleep in his arms.

“Do you think we’ll be this lucky all the time?” he joked with Lara, the new mother worn out after being in labor for several hours.

“God I hope so,” she found the strength to smile and watched him curiously analyzing his babies, smitten with the tiny angels and how perfect they looked.

The Joker and his girlfriend had no way of knowing that you were the reason why their son and daughter didn’t cry: you kept on caressing their faces and your outwordly presence soothed the newborns; they felt nothing but your love.

Every time they would wake up in the middle of the night, Y/N was there to comfort them.

“Ssssttt, don’t cry,” you would whisper and hum lullabies until Emma and Kase closed their eyes again.

Lara and J believed they had the best babies ever since they were able to rest throughout the night and didn’t have to wake up besides the feeding times.

When they started crawling, they would follow each other and sometimes stopped in the same time, cooing at the ethereal shape they could see floating around the Penthouse.

“Awww, look how cute,” Lana would point out at the babies that were sitting on the blanket, actually reaching their hands towards you because they wanted to be picked up, not knowing you couldn’t do that. “They are so adorable,” she would rest her head on The Joker’s shoulder, grateful he was there to witness them grow.

The twins would suddenly scream and giggle, completely delighted by your invisible kisses and J couldn’t help it anymore:

“Com’ere little monsters!” he would get up and snatch them from the blanket, covering them in kisses. That prompted more screaming and laughter, nothing short of a small miracle: The Joker loved his children even if he didn’t know it.

When Emma and Kase got older, they started talking about The Sparkly Lady, something their parents believed to be an imaginary friend.

“Is she pretty?” The Joker would tease the 5 year old twins because they amused him with their innocent answers.

“U-hum,” Emma would reply while playing with her toys.

“She has long hair and a white dress and she sparkles!!” Kase would excitedly describe you to his father.

“Wow, does she?!” J would wink at Lara and she chuckled at all the details they would come with it: smart kids with a vivid imagination, no doubt about it. “Maybe daddy should see if The Sparkly Lady is single, right honey?”

“You’re hilarious,” Lara gave him a disapproving glare, folding clothes and placing them in drawers.

“I think mommy’s jealous,” J scoffed, passing his fingers through the green hair.

The woman rolled her eyes and went upstairs to see if laundry was done while The Joker fumbled with his laptop, opening a folder that had pictures of you. He liked to look at them when Lara wasn’t around, not because he was afraid he would hurt her fillings, but because it was something personal he didn’t want to share.

“Oh,” Emma suddenly lost interest in her doll and came over to crawl on The Joker’s knees. “The Sparkly Lady,” she touched the screen filled with the image of a beautiful Y/N wearing the white dress embedded with Swarovski crystals gifted to her by The Joker a lot of Christmases ago. The little girl leaned over and kissed the screen, snickering because she got shy.

Kase hopped in his father’s lap, playfully pocking his sister.  
“Emma look, The Sparkly Lady!” he jumped up and down on The Joker’s knees and kissed the screen, imitating his sister’s gesture.

J didn’t know what to say, he was dumbfounded. The children never saw you in real life or in other pictures, they just happened to be there for once when he was browsing your folder. And they both referred to you with the same name.

“This…this is The Sparkly Lady?” he muttered in disbelief.

“A-ha,” Emma confirmed and pulled down on his jacket so she can whisper in his ear. “Daddy, she’s saying she loves you to the moon and back,” she bit on her lip and Kase carefully listened to your words and repeated to his father.

“And… huh?” the young boy had to pause because he had a hard time hearing. “And twice around the world!”

“Plus this!” his daughter showed him the small gap between her fingers, copying what you were showing her. “She says she’ll wait for you,” Emma continued and then pouted. “Where are you going, daddy?”

“Daddy, can we come?” Kase tugged on his father’s shirt but The Joker couldn’t reply or react.

He looked around the room as if it would offer an answer to the shocking revelation, his lips barely moving:

“Princess?…”

His Queen smiled, thankful the little ones finally helped deliver the message to the man she never stopped loving. She waited for so long for a chance to let him know she was still there that nothing else mattered.

You gently wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. J couldn’t feel or hear you, yet you still reassured him:

“I’ll wait …”


End file.
